


Desperate

by MlleMim



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Bottom Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Breathplay, Dom/sub, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Knifeplay, Pegging, Rope Bondage, Top Widowmaker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-27 02:06:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8383660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MlleMim/pseuds/MlleMim
Summary: Reaper asks Widowmaker to dominate him. She obliges.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Translation notes:
> 
> mouche = fly  
> Désolé = sorry  
> Oh là là is used as an expression of surprise here
> 
> Let me know if there are any mistakes, and enjoy!

The way he proposed the very idea to her piqued her interest. The enigmatic, secretive wraith known as Reaper visiting her in the downtime between missions with an unusual request. Sputtered, ungraceful; the words tumbled from behind his mask—a simple yet complex plea.

For Widowmaker to dominate him. She supposed for purely physical need. Talon was not generous when it came to a mission’s strain on their agents. She mused that this would be a good stress-reliever for the both of them. Although her libido had died with the remnants of Amelie’s existence, the thought of Reaper bound, writhing, and held completely at her mercy had its appeal. If only for the absolute control she would assert over his being. A smirk graced her features at the thought. She would have him like a fly caught in a web. This will be fun, even.

~

It was like watching one of her greatest fantasies come to life. A feared assassin, a deadly murderer, bound and stretched before her on her bed for her to do what she pleased. His pants were removed, toned legs exposed and hardened member erect in the cool air. Clawed gauntlets were bound together to the headboard with rope tied in intricate knots. She ran a hand down his thigh, digging her nails in harshly as he bucked into the air, desperate for any sort of contact, breaths puffing through the mask with unmasked urgency.  
“How pathetic your instincts make you. Vulnerable.” She raked another trail down those glorious thighs as she hissed. “Weak. Look at how hard you are even though I barely touched you. You just get off on being bound like this, don’t you?”

Her face remained a static mask as she felt his arms strain against his restraints—clawed hands flexing in vain—as he grunted in response. Another cruel grin cut across her face at the thought of what would come next. Crawling over to his side, she procured a purple and black balisong, razor sharp to the touch. With her free hand she carefully removed the Kevlar armor concealing his neck and chest, revealing more of the ashen, clammy skin. She then flicked the knife open with fluid, precise movements. Reaper’s mask was pointed towards her the whole time, his breaths still erratic and to her favor, he was still hard. 

“You remember the word, yes?” A slow nod answered her. “Good.” A reminder of the safe word was merely a precaution—while she was greatly enjoying herself she did not want to risk souring the professionalism she and the wraith had. Though this was whole event was hardly professional she could not help but regard it with a sense of propriety. Perhaps it was being too lenient on her part, but she needed to be certain. With his agreement however spurred her to her next plan.

Widowmaker coyly spun the knife while looking down at Reaper's mask, slowly placing her other hand on the man's chest. Her fingers danced on the expanse of gray skin, making him shudder as she walked her hand down his abdomen to his waiting erection. A broken sound escaped him as she finally grasped him, all the while maintaining eye contact with his mask as she ran her tongue out to wet the cool metal of her knife.

"Tell me, Reaper. Does the threat of injury excite you?" She purred while lowering the knife to the exposed part of his neck down near his collarbone. His tied hands trembled with excitement that rattled her headboard slightly. He gasped a barely audible agreement. His head fell back to the touch of the cool metal on his skin, but Widowmaker would have none of it. She roughly grabbed the chin of his mask, forcing him to look at her ministrations. A keening whine escaped him with a shuddering breath as she lowered the knife to his skin once more, merely running the cool metal along his throat, relishing the movement as he swallowed nervously. In a sudden movement she applied pressure with the flat side of the blade while giving his cock a rough stroke. He shivered at that, bucking his hips into her grasp. 

"Be still, mouche!" Widowmaker spat while her face twisted into a glower. His chest heaved as he nodded, stilling his hips to let Widow do what she pleased without interference. A thrill ran through her at his continued obedience, a low thrum in her veins creating a low buzzing feeling deep in her core.

It was refreshing, really, to feel satisfaction from something other than killing. To have this kind of control over another. Taking a life was one thing--extinguishing a candle flame of light. This, this was taming the flame itself, molding it into a bonfire at her touch. 

She stroked him slowly at first, grip tight and unrelenting as she once again pressed the knife to his lower neck. He let out a strangled growl as she increased her pace and pressed the sharp blade into him, drawing even more gasps from him as it broke the surface and leaked inky, black fluid into the dark gray skin. She relished the sweet sounds that were drawn from him before she paused for a moment. Drawing her index finger through the substance she examined it, noting that the wound had knit itself shut within the time it took for her to complete the action, inky fluid reabsorbing into the skin.

Widow clicked her tongue before lightly carving random patterns into his skin, watching with fascination as they healed before too many could appear. The hand on his cock stilled momentarily before she squeezed it roughly to compensate for the lack of movement. 

She failed to hear what he said in response, and pressed the knife harder drawing another trickle of black blood. “What did you just say?” Her lip curled back in annoyance, expecting a complaint. What then met her ears made her face heat instead.

“Please… don’t stop.” He let out a shuddering breath, flexing his hands in their restraints once again. “Please.” 

“Now how could I deny such a request when you put it like that?” The cruel smile returned to her face as she began to work again, gracefully flicking the knife across his skin, spattering black against the gray canvas. Her hand pumped at a firm pace, and she increased the tempo along with her knife strokes. The slick sounds of her working his member contrasted harshly with the metallic swish of the knife and the harsh puff of his breathing—sounding to her like a twisted symphony euphoric to her ears. Without realizing, she too was breathing considerably hard and soon lost herself in the surreal feeling of it all. A particularly strained cry from below her caught her attention, and her face remained a passive mask as he chanted “don’t stop” over and over. Eyes unfocused, she didn’t even realize he had come until she noticed the wet sticky feeling on her fingers and felt him shudder through the aftershocks, and she noted how satisfying it was to see that toned abdomen tremble. 

Now that brought her back fully. With a tsk, she grabbed a towel off the nightstand to wipe her hand off. “Well, you certainly did not last long. Yet I see you are still hard.” She let her eyes rake down his body—naked save for his trench coat—before continuing. “Allow me to assist you with that.” She reached over to the nightstand once more to rummage through the drawers, picking up a strap-on with a tube of lubricant. 

Flipping open the cap, she squeezed a good amount of lube on her fingers. Positioning herself between Reaper's legs, she brought her hand up to his entrance, circling it a few times with her wet finger before slipping it inside him. He let out a grunt at that, sighing as Widow prepared him, being surprisingly gentle despite her earlier harshness.  
Widow was at a bit of a loss at his calmness, even a bit frustrated that he gave no indication that he looked forward to what was coming. She briefly considering punishing him before he suddenly canted his hips and thrusted on her fingers, letting out a needy growl. 

Her earlier smirk returned to her face as she roughly fingered him, daring to draw more of those sounds before they really got started. Thankfully he met her expectations. Her smirk progressed into a feral grin as she loomed over him, relishing in the strained noises he let out at the rough feeling of being stretched. She leaned further over him, inches away from his mask. She tugged her fingers roughly before cooing in a teasing voice. 

“Now Reaper, what is it you would like me to do now?”

As soon as he tried to speak she roughly jerked her fingers again, effectively cutting off any response. “I’m so sorry,” she crooned, “I happened to miss what you just said.”  
“F-fuck me,” he gasped without missing a beat.

Immediately she withdrew her fingers, pulling away from him and sitting up, a look of annoyance crossing her features despite her still heavy breathing and flushed face. 

“Ah ah ah, fuck me… what?”

“Please. Please fuck me, Widowmaker. Please.” He practically squirmed at the amount of denial she was giving him, craving contact and release once more. A pained noise left his throat, slightly distorted and so pathetic that Widowmaker thought she was going to burst into flames at how hot she felt.

Hurriedly she stepped off the bed, hastily peeling off her bodysuit, noting the quite obvious wet spot in the lower part of her suit. It was now that she realized just how aroused she really was.

Quickly, almost clumsily, she equipped the strap-on, squeezing more lubricant on her fingers to rub on the thick member. Once it was suitably wet, she settled between Reaper’s legs once again, lining up the cock to his entrance.

Finally— _finally_ —she inserted the thick member, all the way to the hilt so her hips were pressed against his. She ground against him for a moment, stimulating herself for the first moment that evening. A low sultry moan escaped her and she pulled back and thrusted once harshly, her hands falling to the space beside his neck, gaining some of her composure back as she heard Reaper sob beneath her. Biting her lip, she forced herself to start a slow pace at first, despite the urgency in her now to finish it.  
She just had never felt so powerful like this besides the moments of her finest kills. It was intoxicating—the amount of control she had over such a lethal person. Without thinking she slowly slid her hands to Reaper’s neck, closing them around his throat.

“I wonder if I can make your skin as blue as mine.” 

It was a spur of the moment, almost embarrassing if she wasn’t already losing herself in everything, but the thought of giving him what he wanted while denying what he needed lit her skin aflame.

His cock gave an excited twitch she quite noticeably felt against her belly along with a bodily quiver against her. She thrusted harder while cutting off his air, predatory grin returning to her face once again as she heard the choked, desperate noises. It was like music to her ears. 

Briefly she wondered what the woman she had last seen at the Numbani museum would look like this. Gasping, tied and at her mercy. Her blush deepened even more at the thought.

Quickly cataloging that image to the side, she continued her slow pace, taking the time to enjoy the current scene of the wraith being so utterly wrecked beneath her. Just when it was beginning to be too much, and she knew things needed to speed up, Widowmaker quickly reached down and flipped on the vibrate function, letting out a loud moan as it buzzed against her clit. It drove her to increase the speed of her thrusts. Sparks danced up her spine at the contact, and she felt his legs wrap around her waist. Soon she began to lose herself. Removing her hand from his neck, she fisted both of her hands in the sheets beside his head, breathing growing ragged with each bit of contact her clit made with the vibrating strap on; starting to let go as glitch-like noises came from Reaper between heaving gasps, so wrapped up in the sensation that she hardly noticed the rub of his cock between their bodies as they both neared their climax.

Her orgasm rolled through her body like hot lightning, each of her nerves feeling on fire, _alive_ ; she barely slowed down through it as she vaguely registered something wet spatter against her stomach. 

Once the intensity of it faded away she all but collapsed on top of the wraith, resting her head on his chest, panting heavily. Catching her breath a bit more she finally realized that Reaper was still taking deep breaths, trembling under her.

“Right. Désolé.” Widowmaker flipped off the vibrate function and pulled out, Reaper heaving a sigh of content, and to her surprise smoke billowed out from the holes in his mask. Grabbing her balisong off the nightstand, she cut the ropes binding Reaper’s hands before getting off of him to sit on the edge of the bed. 

She looked over her shoulder at him one last time. “I am going to clean up. You may leave.”

~

It came as a surprise to Widowmaker when she returned from her bathroom to find Reaper still there almost exactly where she’d left him, except that he was dressed again and had his hands folded over his stomach. To her chagrin, he had fallen asleep. In her bed. Snoring softly, even.

“Oh là là. Idiot.” Annoyed but slightly amused, she went over to her closet to grab a few blankets and pillows. Looks like she’ll be sleeping on the floor tonight. 

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> Personally I prefer these two in a friends with benefits relationship but if you, the reader want to read it as romantic then feel free! Also implied Widowtracer in this because I am Widowtracer trash too haha. Anyways I hope you all enjoyed this because there will be a second chapter coming soon!


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